
07-05-2008, 10:11 PM
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Holy fudgenuggets college is busy this semester!
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Re: Sun, Surf, and Demons (insaney)
The cold seawater and shrill screams were proving to be better than any other hangover cure. Different parts of Cadenza's brain had to be roused just to shut out the noise, smell, and chill--but, of course, being more aware just meant she'd also feel them more. It's a vicious circle, she thought. And water should never be that bone-chillingly cold.
The gypsy shook that feeling off and glanced down at the net where the catch of the day, har har, still lay in her net of magic. Common sense dictated that they'd be staring and shrieking in the general direction of wherever the most action was--and that would be where their big, pink friend was centering his attack on the ship. Their eyes, or at least those of the people still fortunate enough to be conscious, seemed to be focused on this one dark, quick figure staring down (or rather, grinning down) the beast while standing perfectly balanced on a wall. The man seemed familiar, Cadenza thought. And seeing as how everyone else on this ship was about as familiar as a kind thought to her, that must've meant he was--
--a head full of fangs thrust itself forward, threatening to majorly intrude upon the woman's personal space. Meet 'n' greet the new business associate later, she told herself. Chop up some massive seafood first.
The beast lunged and took a giant mouthful out of the cabin where Cadenza was hanging, sending splinters and plaster everywhere--but by that time, she was already running along his scaly neck, anchored to the shadows upon it. Darts of shadow magic were peppered into his spine like acupuncture needles, each one causing the sea monster to cry out in pain. Then, the gypsy was suddenly back on his head again, smirking at the two big, marble-like eyes, watching them wince and twitch in agony and just smiling back. It infuriated him. He tried swinging his head about wildly, crashing it against the ship's hull, but every move just made the darts sting worse and worse.
The petite woman flipped him a finger in some sort of rude human gesture, got a kickstart off his forehead, and leapt back to the ship's wall onto a shadow, shouting, "You smell like a shark's ass!"
And then, the darts--and one of his three heads--exploded in a burst of magic.
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